Lots of things make life worth living

Sometimes I love to just stand at the door and look out at one of the biggest blessings in our lives. Sarah Jane has been with us over four-and-a-half years and not one minute with her is dull. She's our best bud and she knows it.


Just before leaving for my courthouse reporting duties one morning I stopped to pick up a couple of dollar breakfast sandwiches at a local fast food joint. I'd never had these before, and I was very pleasantly surprised to find them hot, tasty and a bit too filling. No way could I finish two, and I can't stand to waste anything so I put on my thinking cap.

It was a bit after 8, and it occurred to me that someone was probably walking the dog about now. No, I wasn't going to give the sausage, egg and cheese delight to the pooch but I knew her walker would gladly accept it.

I headed up Main and as I crested the slight slope at Second I stared toward the next stoplight. Sure enough, there they were. I saw a white ball cap and just a bit below that was a curly tail bouncing toward the west. I moved to the turn lane so I could pull up on the proper side of Third Street.

I've caught up with the man and his best bud before, but never with food in tow. As I slowed and pulled up to the curb, Sarah Jane lifted her nose from the ground, focused on the white car and tilted her head in that quizzical way of hers. I love it.

When she was told, "Hey, there's The Woman!", Sarah bounded to the car and placed huge muddy paws on the passenger door--inside and out. She sniffed toward the food bag, and once she was safely away from it, I handed it over. Now I could leave for the rest of the work day with a smile on my face.

It seems like this happened just yesterday but it was over a week ago. I was reminded again of this pleasant memory because we can still see the muddy paw prints inside the passenger door. I've been a bit too busy to take care of the dried mess and today I'm thankful for that.

Do you have sights, sounds or smells that bring a smile to your face? I think we all have something; maybe it's a song or the smell of bread baking or the taste of homemade chicken and noodles.

Some sights that give me a grin have to do with cruising over to Mom's for coffee, goodies and conversation. The road going down to her house is a nightmare at the moment (well, it's been a bad dream for a couple of years; now it's a full-blown nightmare), but once inside the cozy kitchen we soon forget about the bumpy road and get right to the fun stuff. Over the years we've had so many memorable visits there I can pull one up and watch it like a movie in my head.

Another happy sight is seeing my sister walking toward me whenever we get a chance to visit in person. That happened last week in Geneseo and I've brought that sight to mind over and over again simply because I love her to pieces and miss her something fierce.

Sounds that soothe are usually connected to songs, and I have to admit that I now have a ringtone from Jaron and the Long Road to Love's "Pray For You". My sister warned me not to get it because her youngest daughter had it and when it went off, she got nothing but glares from those within earshot. I do love Sis, but I don't always listen to her. That song may not soothe anyone; I like it because it makes me laugh.

I like the sound I make as I put supper together. I start off with telling Sarah, "Time to make supper", and she's in the kitchen in a flash. Her body makes a thunk! as it hits the floor; that's the beginning, followed by the sounds of dishes placed on the table, the rattle of silverware and the sound of the five o'clock news starting.

The smell of fresh coffee brewing, cinnamon rolls baking or turkey roasting bring a smile to most people. There are far too many delectable aromas to mention, and they're different for everyone anyway.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is this: We're bombarded today with news that makes us nervous, angry and fearful. I don't want to bring up specifics because we're hearing and reading about them every day. And I'm not saying we should stick our collective heads in the sand and let the world sail by without us.

Bad things happen and they always will. Too often they outshadow the good and lovely and wonderful things going on in our daily lives. We can turn that around and make a real difference in our outlook on life.

Some day when you have a few minutes, why not grab a favorite drink, a piece of paper and a pen and find a quiet spot to think. Put a title like, "These things make me happy" and make three columns, one each for sights, sounds and smells. The physical act of reminding yourself of what makes you happy should bring a smile to your face. It worked for me.

Living with a few physical limitations

I may be in my late 50s, but I'm a kid at heart even though I can't do some of the things I used to do. That's OK because I've seen folks who deal with much more challenging issues and they do it with dignity, grace and humor. I'm learning from them every day and I thank God they are a part of my life.



I've lived with physical limitations for as long as I can remember.

First it was poor eyesight. The lazy left eye was obvious, and Mom was told back in 1957 that it could be surgically fixed by cutting a hole in the side of my head and tying up a loose optical something-or-other. She decided against that, thinking it was much less risky to fit me with glasses.

Throughout the years I've been told the left eye is legally blind, that I can see with only one eye at a time, eye exercises might improve my sight, or, and this is obvious: I'm nearsighted in one eye and farsighted in the other. This is something I've learned to live with. Thinking ahead is something I do often, so my thought was that if I begin to go blind I will learn Braille and I'll stock up on audio books. Some folks have it a lot worse.

Another problem is stamina. It's just not there like it used to be. I can stay up until around 10 or so, then it's bedtime. The sole exception to this is if I'm writing, and then the hours fly and it's often far later than 10 by the time I finish.

Heat is beginning to get to me, so it's a good thing we moved from Arizona a couple of decades ago. Still, the heat and humidity of an Illinois summer is tough to take but I won't complain too much. We have air conditioners in our home and our cars, at work and at stores and restaurants. There are those with breathing problems who simply cannot handle some of our weather; they have it a lot worse.

And the other day I came face-to-stairway with a big dilemma. I was to meet someone at their home for an interview, and upon arriving I was told to come around to the back of the house. The possibility of a big dog waiting there crossed my mind; instead, I found a tall, narrow stairway that sent me right around to the front again where I waited to be let inside. It was a bit embarrassing but it couldn't be helped.

Seems like Mom always had problems with walking. Most of the time she did fine, and other times she was in so much pain she crawled on the floor. I couldn't possibly wish more that I had asked her about those times because there is no one around today who can explain to me what her problem was.

Sis and I have had problems walking on and off for years. There was the time I was walking down the steps at a workplace in Tucson when I simply dropped and fell halfway down. The legs gave out and down I went. Everything checked out fine, and it didn't happen again until over 20 years later when I stood to get out of bed and fell right down to the floor.

As I take stock of new (and some old) physical limitations, I don't sit and cry about them. Nor do I dwell on what I can no longer do. My usual approach to a problem is to see how to get over, under, around or through it. There have been times when severe headaches seemed to come every day for a couple of weeks at a time. After the first few days, I would get determined to carry on with life and live with the pain. Eventually it went away, and I was thankful for each day my head didn't feel ready to explode.

And when walking problems begin to interfere with normal living, I haul out my late father-in-law's cane so I can keep going and get things done. When that no longer works, we'll go from there.

Eyesight, stamina, mobility--three mighty important things we need to live a productive life. But when stuff happens, and it will eventually, try to find ways to outsmart the attacks and remember that there are others who have it a lot worse.

Off to Branson and the million-dollar bathroom

From left, here they come: Gary, Vonnie, Mom and Tom. We left this mall in short order - it was incredibly hot and the trolley never came by. Still, we had more fun than we could shake a stick at. Or something like that.


I think the conversation went something like this:

Me: “You guys going to Branson pretty soon?”

Aunt: “Yes! You two want to go along?”

Me: “OK.”

We dropped off Sarah Jane at the vet's for boarding on a Wednesday afternoon (that's a column itself, but we won't go there. It was traumatic to leave the dog who's been by our sides for over four years and we missed her something fierce.) I wanted to start off early on Thursday morning, say around 7 or so but we didn't pull out until after 8. I get a tad freaked in heavy traffic and on long trips so this was going to be a test of my sanity and of everyone else involved.

Traffic was terrifying (to me) for most of the way there and back, but the drivers handled things beautifully. Auntie did a spot-on impression of me and my reactions to speeding vehicles of all kinds. “This is Margi,” she said, as she stiffened both arms and legs and bugged out her eyes. Heck, she was in the car ahead of ours yet she captured my expression perfectly.

We found our hotel, put our things away and set out for supper. One thing I found difficult to handle (and yes, there was more than one thing) was the way the roads and parking lots were not at all flat. I kid you not, once when Mom stepped out of our car and began an out-of-control downward descent, I was thankful her sister grabbed the back of Mom's jacket to hold her in place.

There was the usual stuff: TV breaks down, gets replaced; forgetting where one put their toiletries, cosmetics and medicines; and sending someone out to get ice a few steps from the room and having them take half an hour to return—without the ice. Fun times.

The highlights, though, were the two shows we saw. Shoji Tabuchi puts on a dazzling act, playing his violin as if he was born with it in his hands. The special effects, the energy and the talent left us in awe for hours afterward. I took plenty of pictures but honestly, you have to experience something like this in person to truly appreciate it.

On an important side note, we had been told that even if we weren't going to see Shoji's show we simply had to at least use the, um, facilities at his theater. I can remember thinking, sure, it's probably a fancy bathroom but how fancy could it be to warrant all the accolades. Trust me when I say this: It is that fancy. It's beyond description. It cost a million bucks each—for the ladies and the mens rooms.

It's 2400 square feet of “Oh, my gosh!” We had live ivy and violets, a chandelier imported from Italy, granite sinks, a marble fireplace and over two dozen “thrones”. The guys had black leather cushy seats for relaxing, black sinks, red carnations and—get this—a pool table. I've left some things out, but I took lots of photos there too because it's unlikely I'll ever set foot in such a place again. These bathrooms have been voted the best in the U.S. I was more than a little unimpressed with my own facilities after we got home.

We also saw the Pierce Arrow show that featured country and gospel music, and one of the funniest comedians I've ever seen. We laughed ourselves silly, and the patriotic songs brought tears to our eyes. Classy stuff.

Wherever we went to eat, we found budding entertainers who told us jokes or sang while they waited on diners. We met some of the friendliest people on earth in Branson, and it's a trip we'll never forget. Memories were made, and I'll always be thankful our family had this time together.

Just one little thing; well, maybe a couple. Try to never get caught in bumper-to-bumper traffic in 90-plus degree weather for over an hour with a car full of family unless you all love one another very, very much.

And two: There's nothing in the world like coming home, picking up your furry friend and just sitting side-by-side on a quiet, summer night. It doesn't get much better than that.

Holding on to that warm, fuzzy feeling

I know this picture has nothing to do with the story below, but I love Sarah Jane and time is flying by so fast (she's over four years old already!) and these earlier shots of her make me smile. Kinda gives me that warm, fuzzy feeling, you know?



It’s time to admit that I’m a gadget fanatic.

My dream house would have an office and a library in every room. There would be easy chairs, a big desk, plenty of lamps (including lighted bookshelves), and a fireplace. It would be nice to have hardwood floors with splashy throw rugs, but I’m not much into designer digs. I just want the rooms to be useful and comfortable.

Computers would be networked throughout the house; no more carrying work around on flash drives and disks. I could walk into any office and pick up where I left off. As it is now, I sit in front of one of my computers and wonder if this is the one that has the court news on it or the poodle birthday party.

Still, that’s a lot of expense to go through just to keep my head straight. It would be simple enough to write what I was working on last on a piece of paper next to each computer. And that, oddly enough, brings me to electronic book readers.

Ah, another gadget I thought I must have. Imagine! You can load a few hundred books onto each ebook reader and carry them (it) around without weighing yourself down. One such device is made to read in bright sunlight, some are designed to hold horizontally or vertically, whichever is most comfortable for the reader. I can’t get over having hundreds of books at my fingertips without having to lug them around.

Yet I can’t let go of the feel and smell of a real book. I simply love the whole idea of holding a book in my hands, turning the pages, placing the bookmark for later reading. If that makes me a tree killer, so be it. The ebook reader is one gadget I think I can do without.

Besides, I found out that you can download an ebook application from a Web site onto your computer. It’s free, and so are hundreds of books. The only catch is, you have to read the books on the computer and while that may work some of the time, it won’t work when you want to curl up in bed or in a chair and get lost in another time and place.

How many of you have one book next to your easy chair, another in the car and a third by your bedside? Add magazines and newspapers to your reading stash and you’re talking some serious multitasking, but those of us who love it wouldn’t have it any other way. There are lots of ways to recycle our used stuff now, so we needn’t feel terribly guilty about the poor ol’ trees.

There haven’t been too many times I’ve wanted to throw a book across the room when I got to an ending I didn’t care for, but think of the different result if one got seriously ticked off and threw their electronic gizmo at a far wall. Ebook readers are still a bit pricey, and they lack that warm, fuzzy feeling. Plus, I have to say there is one other thing that keeps me from forking over hard-earned money for such a gadget: What would happen if, after downloading dozens of books, your reader decided to up and quit on you? Gadgets do that, and most times without warning.

It’s taken me a while, but I’m learning to combine simple tools with electronic wonders. I love the way both worlds can work in harmony, giving me what I need with as little stress as possible. I’m all for that.